


November 20th

by bfcas



Series: Pricefield Week 2019 [1]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Day One, F/F, Fluff, pricefield week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 05:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20943005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bfcas/pseuds/bfcas
Summary: They say time heals all wounds, but sometimes the wounds hurt on certain days more than others.





	November 20th

**Author's Note:**

> Another story this soon? It must be Pricefield week then. This is my story for day one, with the prompt 'Time/Support'. I hope you enjoy and I'm sorry if it isn't all spelt/written correctly as it was written in three hours as I tried to get it out on time! Enjoy!

Max settled into the cushions of the couch, setting her freshly brewed mug of coffee on the table in front of her. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater down to cover her freezing hands, the chill in the air biting at her skin. Damn the extortionate price of heating, she thought as she pulled her laptop onto her lap. The studio apartment she shared with Chloe was always at near sub-zero temperature where they couldn't afford to heat it but the copious amounts of blankets they had accumulated made up for it. Sharing a bed helped too.

They had lived in their small apartment in Capitol Hill, Seattle for three or so months now. After the storm had swept through Arcadia Bay, they had detangled themselves from each others arms and driven straight out of the town, not looking back until they were well out of the confines of the town. They had stopped at some shitty truckstop about an hour out of Arcadia and the decision they had just made hit them like the tornado had hit everyone else. They had held each other and cried as the tears fell on the clothes that were still sodden with rain.

After driving to Max’s parents in Seattle, where many hugs and tears were shared, Chloe had gone to leave. To leave Max to be with her family for a while. Max had grabbed her hand in panic, not ever wanting her to be away from her ever again after only just getting her back. She had pulled Chloe all the way up to her room and they had collapsed onto the bed together, falling asleep holding one another and hadn’t been separated since. 

The two girls had worked and saved their money, eager to get anywhere that they could be alone; as much as Max loved them, her parents would interfere in anything if it was for Max’s ‘own good’ as they called it. After nine long months of saving, she and Chloe had enough money to get their own little studio apartment. Their own little pirate den. 

It had been tough adjusting to life after the storm, with many arguments and exhausted tears brewing between the two of them over the year. They never stayed mad with one another though. They needed each other more than they needed air to breathe. Some would say it was unhealthy co-dependence, Max and Chloe would say it was necessary support to stay sane. After all, who else would even begin to believe the week they’d experienced?

Max took a sip of her coffee as she scanned through the article she had been writing on analogue photography for a local magazine. It all seemed in order, maybe a few grammatical errors but she would get Chloe to read it through for those later when she got home from the grocery store. Chloe was always better at the academic stuff anyways. 

She took another mouthful of coffee but before she could swallow it, a notification popped up on her dashboard that closed her throat up. 

_ Today is Warren Graham’s birthday! Write a message to help him celebrate! _

The small window of text made her blood run colder than it already was and she had to set her coffee down with a shaky hand. Was it the 20th of November already? 

It had been over a year since the storm but it didn’t stop the horrible waves of guilt from crashing into Max’s conscience whenever she had a reminder of it. More often than not it would be birthdays of people that had died: Justin, Juliet, Victoria, Daniel, the list was so long that those reminders came round nearly every week. Sometimes it would be when she would get phone calls from the few that survived like Kate or Dana but they were far less frequent. Other times she would just look at Chloe and feel bad but that was because she would always feel more happiness than guilt that the girl was alive. Whenever these reminders came, she would just wordlessly hold Chloe’s hand and, without even asking, Chloe would pull her into a hug. It didn’t right what she had done, all the damage she had caused, but it helped her feel better again, even just for a moment.

However, as she sat staring at Warren’s Facebook page, Chloe was nowhere near and her hand, usually preoccupied with tracing the lines on Chloe’s palm, had nothing to do except scroll through the photos on there. 

Warren’s profile picture was the same as it was a year ago, his smiling face of satisfaction where they had completed that science experiment still displayed at the head of his page. Further down, there were photos of him and Alyssa, a picture of the chess club, him at a late-night Star Wars viewing. In every single photo, he looked exactly as Max remembered him; happy and goofy and alive. 

She felt tears trickle over her cheeks as she continued to scroll down the page, taking in a shaky breath as a selfie of the two of them appeared. She had to scroll away from that and put her laptop back onto the coffee table, clumsily spilling the mug of coffee. 

Warren would have been 18 today. Would’ve been able to vote or drive his shitty car late at night or finally buy those fireworks he kept pestering Max to buy for him. And it was because of Max that he wouldn’t. All because of her and her stupid fucking storm, she thought as she hugged her knees to her chest and let the tears fall down her face. 

Max thought of the sweet dorky guy, the relentless reporter, the misunderstood mean girl and so many others that had lost their lives and it set her head racing. She couldn’t stop the tears that ran silently over her cheeks as she stared at the smiling face of Warren, still staring from her laptop. Her thoughts were interrupted, however, by the jangle of keys in the lock. 

The front door swung open and Chloe Price bundled her way inside, one hand holding grocery bags and the other struggling with the keys that were jammed in the lock. Max watched through teary eyes as she wrestled them free before she slammed the door behind her, a rush of cold air swirling in with her. She kicked off her boots and hung up her scarf before she placed her keys in the bowl. 

“Well, holy shit,” She announced as she shrugged her jacket off, having to unceremoniously drop the bags of shopping to get it off. “It is officially cold as balls.” She said as she readjusted the beanie on her head, pushing her now mostly blonde hair back under the hat. Max didn’t have the strength to answer, instead humming in agreement, the tightness of her throat making even that seem like a squeak. 

Chloe picked up the groceries and crossed the room to their little kitchen and Max heard the clatter of cupboards where she was unpacking the bags. 

“So, how’s the article going? Good enough that you can have tonight off?” Chloe asked, her head in the fridge from the sounds of things. “Because David said that Mom’s feeling up for a Skype session with us tonight.” 

The sentence, on any other day, would have been a real positive. But right now, as Max sat in a cesspool of guilt and self-hatred, it hit Max in the gut; Joyce, in the storm, had survived but sustained injuries that left her in a month-long coma. Even now, a year later, she had rough days and even though both she and Chloe insisted that they were just glad she was alive, Max knew that she wouldn’t have to be in so much pain if only Max had figured out how to save everyone. 

Max felt a fresh wave of hot tears brew in her eyes and she was too distracted by the tumultuous noise of her thoughts to even register Chloe talking, the words fading to nothing but muffled noises behind her. Her eyes stared at the photo of her and Warren and she found herself staring at her own face with so much frustration that it made her nauseous. She could hear Nightmare Max talking to her again as she stared at herself.  _ It’s all your fault, Max, it’s all your fault, it’s all your- _

“Hey.” 

Max’s head fell quiet at the feel of a cold hand landing gently on her shoulder. The silence of the apartment was suddenly louder than her own thoughts and it was only the feeling of Chloe’s thumb rubbing a comforting pattern on her shoulder that kept her from screaming. 

“You okay?” Chloe asked, her voice significantly clearer now that Max’s head was quiet. She still couldn’t answer the older girl though, instead staring at the laptop in front of her. 

“Oh,” Chloe said, her thumb stilling its comforting movements. “It’s the 20th.” She mumbled and Max tried to nod but her head was frozen, her whole body was. She saw Chloe sit next to her in her peripheral vision, her arm lifting over to rest along the back of the couch - as close as she could be without touching Max. 

“Max, I’m… I’m so sorry.” Chloe said, her voice awash with sadness. They were words that Max had heard thousands of times and that she herself had said probably twice as much but it didn’t make them any easier to hear. Contrary to popular belief, time did not heal all wounds. Especially when time was the cause of them. 

Max nodded, not knowing what to say to her best friend’s apology. She blinked once and finally felt the tears she had been holding in come out in a choked cry. She hadn’t even finished the first sob before Chloe had closed the small gap on the couch between them and bundled her into her strong arms. The arms that had become Max’s safety net over the last year, more familiar than her side of the bed where she slept in them every night. Max cried into Chloe’s chest, the familiar thump of Chloe’s heartbeat soothing her along with the feel of Chloe’s arms holding her tight. Max felt Chloe press kisses to her hair as she continued to sob quietly, hating how the affection made her want to smile when there were thousands of people that would never feel the same way ever again. 

“It’ll be okay, Max,” Chloe said, the vibration of her voice buzzing against Max’s ear. “I’ve got you.” 

They sat for a while, Chloe murmuring words of comfort as Max stopped her tears. It took a while but Chloe was patient. Chloe was always patient, Max thought. Always patient and understanding. It was one of the endless reasons that Max was glad that Chloe was alive and with her.

After Max’s tears had stopped, she sat up, cringing at the large wet patch of tears she had left on the front of Chloe’s sweater. Choe didn’t notice, instead brushing Max’s hair off her face with a gentle swipe of her hand. 

“Feel better?” Chloe asked, her eyes swimming with concern as they stared into Max’s. She looked so much older, Max thought as she stared at her. From the darker circles under her eyes to the slightly sharper angle of her cheekbones, this was a girl who had had to do a lot of growing up in a short time and had been left worse for wear because of it. Max wondered if she looked the same. Difference was, Chloe was still fundamentally beautiful despite the universes best efforts to scuff her up. 

Before she could even register it, her hand had reached up to cup Chloe’s cheek, as if Max couldn't believe she was still real and alive. Like this was a nightmare and Max was going to wake up any second and realise she was taped to a chair with a needle in her neck. It was only the feel of Chloe’s cold hand covering hers that convinced her she was still awake. 

“I’m sorry. Just…” Max stuttered, taking in a breath to stop the tears that threatened to come. “I’m so glad I have you.” 

Chloe smiled, her eyes shining with tears. She laughed under her breath, squeezing Max’s hand. 

“Right back atcha, dude.” She chuckled, making Max smile. Chloe leant forward, closing the gap between them to press and hold a soft kiss to Max’s warm forehead. Max closed her eyes at the contact, revelling in the feeling of it for the few seconds. She looked up as Chloe pulled away, not going too far. She was close enough that Max could see the light freckles on her nose. “I’ll always be with you, Max.”

The words struck Max’s heart like nothing ever could; they were the words that Chloe had said as they stood by the lighthouse all that time ago. The promise she had made and the promise that Max hoped with all her heart that she would keep. 

Max closed the gap between them this time, leaning up to press a clumsy, wet-with-tears kiss to the corner of Chloe’s mouth. Instantly, Chloe righted them, pressing her lips softly to Max’s in a kiss that had been a long time coming. Max had wanted to kiss her by the lighthouse and every second after that but had been too nervous that she would scare away the one person that she needed more than anyone else if she did. But now they were here in their little apartment, kissing the broken parts of each other and healing. 

They broke apart after a moment and Max prepared herself for the awkward talk she had been trying to avoid for the last year. She didn’t expect Chloe to laugh and shake her head.

“Damn, you got snot on my face.” Chloe laughed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Max laughed at her, in disbelief more than anything else. 

“I did not!” Max argued, shoving Chloe playfully. They laughed for a moment before falling into comfortable silence where they just smiled at each other. Chloe settled into the couch cushions, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. Max heard her laptop snap shut where Chloe had closed it but she was secretly glad for it, knowing that her tears could wait until later. Chloe held her arm up in invitation and Max blushed slightly before accepting the offer and settling into Chloe’s side.

Chloe kissed the top of her head as she clicked the TV on, putting on some dumb cartoons to fill the silence. Max barely watched them, the happiness and the feeling of Chloe’s lips buzzing around her head. The exhaustion of so many extreme feelings combined with the comforting smell of Chloe and feel of her arm draped over her shoulder had Max’s eyes dropping shut after a while. She fell asleep in the arms of the girl she had always loved, knowing that her partner in time and crime would be there as she healed, just as she would be there for her. 

It would take time. But she was Maxine-fucking-Caulfield and if she had Chloe Price by her side, then she could do it. They could do it.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you wanted to check it out, I have finally made a specific Tumblr for my Fic pseudonym where I can take any and all prompts and questions! It's tumblr.com/bfcas00 if you wanted to have a visit! Thanks :)


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